A Life With Michael Jackson (fictional)
by Mistah ME
Summary: A six-year old girl meets thirteen-year old Michael Jackson and her life is changed forever. What will happen to their friendship when Michael becomes famous? What will happen when friendship blossoms into love?
1. Chapter 1

**A Life With Michael Jackson (fictional)**

**By: Mistah ME**

_disclaimer: I do NOT own Michael Jackson. (obviously)_

Chapter 1

I sat on the sidewalk, tears streaming down my face. _Why did Ma and Pa leave me here? Why did they push me away when I tried to follow them? _My ignorant, six-year old mind couldn't grasp the fact that my parents were gone. So I sat there, waiting for them to return. Then, a pair of blurry penny loafers stopped in front of me. I looked up to see an African-American boy with the beginnings of an Afro who looked to be about in his pre-teens looking at me in concern.

"Are you OK? What's wrong?" He had a high-pitched voice. Curiostiy got the better of me and I opened my mouth to unleash a torrent of questions.

"Who are you? What's your name? How old are you?" I forced myself to stop so that I could get some answers.

"I'm Michael and I'm thirteen. What's your name? Where are your parents?" He sat down next to me.

"I'm Melanie. I'm six. And I don't know where Ma and Pa went. Do you?" I was hoping that he would know where they were and would bring me to them so that they could explain that this was all a misunderstanding and tell me how worried they were about me.

"Sorry, Melanie. I don't know where your parents are. Actually, I'm late for my rehearsal and Joseph might whip me. Do you want to come? I could help you find your parents later."

"OK!"

I reached up and grabbed his hand. He looked down at me in surprise and I smiled up at him. I trotted next to him until we reached the rehearsal building. Michael had me sit on the floor and he walked up to five other people. The oldest-looking man was holding a belt and he started yelling at Michael for being late and whipped him. I watched Michael take the beating without a word and felt guilt engulf me. It was my fault he was late. I hoped freverently that Michael wouldn't be too angry and made up my mind to wait until this "rehearsal" thing was over and appologize to him.

But things didn't go as I had planned. Michael messed up a dance move while singing a solo with a wired microphone in his hand and the man advanced, belt in hand, about to whip Michael. I couldn't just sit there and watch while Michael got whipped again. I ran over to the man and tugged on his sleeve. He looked down, furious.

"Who are you?" He practically growled. He frightened me, but I gathered up my courage and confronted him.

"I'm Melanie. Please don't whip Michael anymore." I tried to keep my head up as he glared at me, but it was probably one of the hardest things I had ever done.

"That's none of your business." He turned around and started walking again. I didn't think. I cried out.

"Please, sir! I was wondering if, instead of whipping Michael, you would whip me?" I was shocked at my words and so were the other people in the room, by the looks of it.

The man stared at me, then turned to see Michael's horrified expression. The man looked like he was actually considering my proposition. I shrunk back on myself, horrified at the possibilities. Then, the man shrugged, nodded, and walked over to my side. He raised the belt and I shut my eyes. At the first slash, I almost cried out, but I bit my tongue. By the last whip, the hot tears were, once again, streaming down my face. The man walked away.

"Next time you make a mistake, she gets the belt." He jabbed a finger at me.

I turned and crawled to the far side of the room, where I curled up in a ball. The music started again and, this time, I listened. It was the best music I had ever heard and I could listen to it forever. My petite body had gone through too much in one day, though. The music got softer as my eyelids drooped lower and lower until I drifted off to sleep.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

_ Why did the music stop?... My body's so sore... I'm so confused... Why is the ground moving?... I should probably open my eyes and see..._

I peeled open my heavy eyelids and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Someone was carrying me. It was dark and we were outside. My hand reached up and groped around for a face. My fingers brushed across what felt like a nose and I started patting around the face, trying to see if I could find out who was carrying me. Then, a thought occurred to me and I froze. What if it was the man? I shrunk in on myself. He would be mad and whip me again! Then, we passed under a streetlight and I looked up to see Michael smiling down at me and holding back a chuckle. My fear instantly melted away and I smiled back.

"I'm sorry I made you late. Will you forgive me?" I hadn't apologized for the whipping yet.

"It's OK. You have nothing to apologize for."

"Where are we going? Is rehearsal over? Who were the other people in the room?" I released another torrent of questions.

"Rehearsal's over. We're going to my house. I didn't know where you live and it's really late, so I decided to bring you. The other people who were in the rehearsal room are my father, Joseph, and my brothers, Jackie, Jermaine, Marlon, and Tito. We're almost there. Just a few more minutes."

"OK!" I looked up at Michael and smiled.

We got to Michael's house and I quickly realized that Michael had even more members of his family than I could ever have imagined.

Michael gave me his place on the bed he shared with his brothers and slept on the floor with some blankets. It was very awkward sleeping in a bed with a bunch of other strange boys, so I clambered off the bed in favor of a less awkward situation on the floor next to Michael. I snuggled in next to him and fell asleep feeling safe next to a boy I had known for less than a day.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Life With Michael Jackson (fictional)**

**By: Mistah ME**

_disclaimer: I do NOT own Michael Jackson (obviously)_

Chapter 2

"Melanie... Melanie, wake up."

I woke to the sound of Michael's soft voice. _It's so early... I don't wanna go to wake- Oh, yeah! Michael! _I sat up abruptly, startling Michael.

"Woa there. You were Sleeping Beauty five seconds ago. What made you wake up so suddenly?" He smiled at me. I felt like I had known that smile forever and it had made me smile back every time he showed it to me so far.

"I dunno... Michael, what are we doing today?"

"Well, first, we have to go eat breakfast. Then it's finding your parents. There's no school cause it's summer."

"OK!" I was perfectly fine with that plan as long as I was allowed to stick with Michael.

I hopped out of the blankets and reached up to grab Michael's hand again. This time, he made it easier for me by putting his hand in mine. He led me to the kitchen and pulled out a chair for me.

"Breakfast is served."

I sat down and looked around, too shy to do anything else. His whole family was there. Michael went to get toast for us.

"Hey! Who said we were wasting food on _her_? Michael, don't even think about getting any food for her!" I looked up to see Michael's father, scolding. Michael froze, then carefully set down the plate he was holding and started scolding right back.

"What, so you whip her without a second thought, then prevent her from eating?! She's SIX YEARS OLD! She's a GUEST! You know, I've been putting up with you for a long time now, giving me beatings even when my performance was perfect! Now this?! No, Joseph. She's eating. And you would be nowhere without me, so don't you even try to say anything!"

Michael picked up the two pieces of toast, grabbed some butter, and led me outside. I couldn't speak. Michael had just talked back to his own father in my defense. I felt so bad, but I followed timidly behind Michael anyway. I wouldn't dream of lagging behind.

We walked trough a few alleys and Michael stopped when he decided we were far away enough. Then, he turned and smiled cockily at me.

"_Now_, breakfast is served. C'mon, let's eat."

He sat down on the ground and patted the space next to him. I was shocked. He had been so mad just minutes before.

"I think I'm gonna call you Mel. That fine with you?"

"OK... Michael, are you still mad?"

"...Not at you... C'mon, sit."

I sat down and he handed me a butter-covered piece of toast. I waited until he finished his piece and looked at his face. He still looked hungry. He probably usually had more for breakfast. I split my piece of toast in half and shoved the bigger half in Michael's hands. He looked at me, a question in his eyes.

"You're not hungry?"

I lied and shook my head. He shrugged and finished the toast. I tried to finish my toast as quickly as he had finished his and shoved as much of the bread into my small mouth as I could. I had to eat it as fast as I could so that I could ask Michael some questions.

"Michael, what's your last name? What's your middle name? What's your Ma's name?" I stopped to shove more bread in my mouth.

"Um, my last name is Jackson. My middle name is Joseph. And my mother's name is Katherine."

I opened my mouth to ask why he had to go to rehearsal, but he was faster.

"Mel, we have to go. NOW."

I looked over his shoulder to see a strange girl screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Oh... My... Gosh... MICHAEL JACKSON! Is it really him? MICHAEL JACKSON MICHAEL JACKSON MICHAEL JACKSON! YOU'RE SOOO HOT!"

He looked over his shoulder, panicked. There were people shouting and sounds of a crowd forming. I tried to get up by myself, but he scooped me up and started running. I quickly finished my toast and asked more questions.

"Why are we running?" He looked down and smiled at me.

"You never stop asking questions, do you? We're running from fans. They found us in the alleyway and I wasn't sure what they were going to do. They can get real crazy sometimes."

_Fans. Michael has fans. Who is he? Who is Michael Jackson?_ I had no idea who he was, yet I had practically stuck to him like glue for the past day.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

"Are we going to find Ma and Pa now?" Michael had run for about ten minutes and finally stopped in a different alleyway, panting for breath.

"Yeah. We're probably going to be out all day, seeing as we can't go home until we're sure Joseph has cooled down."

"Who's Joseph?"

"He's my father. He wants us to call him Joseph instead of father."

"Oh. OK."

Michael took my hand and we started walking down the street. I described to him what my parents and home looked like, but he had never seen them. Maybe I lived far away. I started to get worried, but Michael consoled me, saying that I could live with him if we didn't find my parents. This made me feel better and we spent next ten hours looking for my lost parents.


	3. Chapter 3

**A Life** **With Michael Jackson (fictional)**

**By: Mishah ME**

_disclaimer: I do NOT own Michael Jackson (obviously)_

Chapter 3

"So they're not here? I won't be going home?"

"No. Sorry, Mel. You can live with us. Just don't mind what Joseph says. And please don't let yourself get whipped again."

"But I get to live with you?"

"Um... Yeah..."

"Forever?"

"If I can make that happen, yeah."

"Yay!"

Michael broke the news to me that I would probably never see my parents again. But, by that time, I didn't care. I was intrigued by the mystery Michael presented. Who was this person who had fans and took in little girls from the street?

Michael chuckled and squeezed me tight. I hugged him back and he squeezed me tighter. I had to ask. I pulled back and looked into his eyes.

"Michael, who are you?"

"... What?... Oh... Umm... I'm... Michael Jackson?" He looked confused by my question, so I tried to explain. But I was cut off.

"Did I just hear someone say MICHAEL JACKSON?! Oh my gosh! Michael Jackson! Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh! I love you sooo much! I'm your biggest fan! MARRY ME!"

"Heh... I've got to go..."

Michael made a feeble excuse, picked me up, and started running. This was exactly what I was talking about. I needed to know who he was.

"Michael, who ARE you?" I tried again.

"Mel, I don't understand. You already know who I am. I'm Micha-... Me."

"No, no, no. You don't get it. Why are we running from fans?" I tried a different approach.

"You know that, too, Mel. Why are you asking these questions?" His eyebrows knotted together as he stared down at me.

"No, not that... Why do you even have fans? Why do you have to rehearsal?"

Michael's eyebrows unknotted and he laughed, setting me down on the sidewalk.

"We should be far enough away by now... OK. I'm so sorry, Mel. I never explained who I actually am. So, you know how people sing and dance and make their money that way?"

"Yah?"

"Well, I do that. Right now, I'm in a band with my brothers, but I'm really getting sick of them, so I'm launching my solo career."

I started at him blankly. He laughed and dummed it down for me.

"That means that I sing and dance in a band called The Jacksons, but I'm planning to start dancing and singing by myself."

"Are you a star?" He blushed.

"Well... _I_ wouldn't say that. I'm just in a... Umm... You might say... popular band."

"OK. Where are we going now?"

"Well, we're going back home and we'll have dinner."

"OK! Can I see you sing and dance?"

"Maybe after dinner. Let's go." He held out his hand and I grabbed it with both of mine.

We walked for the next twenty minutes, with Michael trying to remember where we came from and me staring at him. He was so fascinating. Never in my whole six years of life had I ever seen anyone like him. Then again, I haven't met many people, but I knew I could pick Michael out from a crowd of a thousand.

We finally got to Michael's house. He opened the door, strode in, and announced very loudly to his family crowded around the dinner table.

"So we weren't able to find Melanie's parents."

"Like I care." His father muttered under his breath. Michael glared at him and continued.

"So I invited her to stay with us permanently."

Silence. Then, an outburst of rage from his father.

"You have NO right to invite some grimy little kid into MY family. I gave no permission and you don't even know her. Take her outside where she belongs."

"No."

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" He was furious.

"I said _no_. Oh, and I almost forgot to tell you guys. I'm sick of playing in the band, so I'm launching my solo career and making my _own_ money. So I can stay far, _far_ away from you money grabbers. And since you won't let Melanie stay, I'm afraid I have to leave, too."

Michael looked at all of his family members and his gaze finally fell on his mother's shocked and horrified expression. He faltered for a moment and let all of his pain show. Then, he steeled himself and turned away from his mother's pain-filled face.

"Let's go, Mel. We won't be eating dinner here."

He held out his hand and I grabbed it, unsure of what else to do. Then, his mother's whisper filled the room.

"Michael? Look at me, please... Son? Is this all for that girl? Her name is Mel? I'm sure we can spare some space for Mel."

"I'm sorry, mother. I have to go."

We walked out the door, me still clutching Michael's hand like it was my lifeline.

Because it was.

He was my lifeline.


	4. Chapter 4

**A Life With Michael Jackson (fictional)**

**By: Mistah ME**

_disclaimer: I do NOT own Michael Jackson (obviously)_

Chapter 4

"Sir, _please_? We need somewhere to stay."

"No."

"Just one night? I'll pay and everything."

"Look, here son. I know you're Michael Jackson and all that, but I can't let you stay without an adult or a parent or something."

"OK..."

Michael took my hand and led me out of the hotel. There was a group of fans waiting outside. Michael pulled out some autographs from his pocket and threw them as far as he could. The fans screamed and ran after the escaping pieces of paper.

"Michael, what are we going to do now?"

"...We're going to go home. Sorry, Mel, but no one will let us stay at their hotels. I should have thought this over more. I won't be launching my solo career anytime soon, and we're going to have a very hard time today."

I looked Michael in the eye, smiled, gave him a hug.

"It's OK. I'll stick with you and everything will be fine. You can do anything, right?"

Michael chuckled and looked down at me.

"Now, when did I ever say that? You're embarrassing me."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Michael opened the front door. We were hoping to sneak in, but his father was sitting next to the door, staring at it as it opened. I quickly processed the scene in front of me. Michael, Michael's father, and a belt. I came to a quick, obvious conclusion. Michael was going to get whipped.

"I can see that kid is still with you. You're still dragging her around?! Forget about her already!"

He grabbed the belt and stood up, raising his arm. As the belt came down, I ran and pushed Michael. The belt landed on my back and the force of it shoved me, face first, into the floor.

"Ha. That's not happening again. I'm gonna get you. Gonna get you hard, Michael."_  
_

Michael had already run off and I peeled myself off the floor and took off in the same direction. He was waiting for me behind the first bend and we started to run, but Michael's father caught up to us.

"Joseph, she has talent!" Michael suddenly screamed.

"What talent?"

"Dancing. She can dance."

As his father thought about the possibility of what he just said, Michael looked at me encouragingly. He either really thought I had talent or was outright lying. I hoped for the former.

"You" He pointed at Michael. "Sing something. And you." He pointed at me. "Dance."

I had no idea what to do, but, then, Michael started singing.

"When we played tag in grade school, you wanted to be It."

The music rushed into me and I could feel the beat pumping through my body. I remembered the moves Michael had used during rehearsal and I copied them. One move, next move, breath, dance. It happened too fast for me to stop. Then, Michael's father started nodding his head.

"Yeah, she does have talent. She can dance somewhere and earn us some money." He looked at me. "You can call me Joseph from now on."

I nodded and Joseph walked away. When he was gone, I looked at Michael and asked one question.

"I get to stay?"

And his answer was everything I wanted to hear.

"Yes!"


	5. Chapter 5

**A Life With Michael Jackson (fictional)**

**By: Mistah ME**

_disclaimer: I do NOT own Michael Jackson (obviously)_

Chapter 5

"Everyone ready for bed? Well, it doesn't matter cause I'm tired and I'm shutting off the lights."

"Wait, Jackie! No!"

"Jackie, Jackie!"

"Wait, wait ,wait! Just a second, Jackie!"

The room turned dark and there were light curses and complaints thrown at Jackie. Everyone scrambled to find their sleeping places in the dark and I sat off to the side, in the corner of the room.

"Hey, Mel. Where do you want to sleep? Sorry we don't have more room, but you can either sleep on the bed or on the floor."

I looked in the direction of Michael's voice. His voice was very soft, but I could feel him sitting next to me.

"Can I sleep with you?"

"Then we have to sleep on the floor. Wait here, I'll get some blankets."

"OK."

I had to be careful how closely I stuck to Michael. If I was going to be living with him, he might get very tired of me very fast. I started to ponder how I was going to go about doing this, but a yell and a curse broke my concentration.

"Dammit, Michael! Give me my blanket back! It's _cold_!"

"Shhh. Jermaine, everything's going to be alright. You can do something with Marlon. It's called _sharing_. It's really quite easy. Almost everyone can do it."

"Michael! I swear, if you don't give me back my blanket..."

Michael's laughter exploded into the darkness and I couldn't help but giggle a little, too.

"Michael! Go take Randy's blankets. I heard he has extra. Give me back mine! I'm freezing!"

"But, Tito, I'm going to be sleeping on the hard, uncomfortable floor and you have this nice, comfortable bed. Besides, I _am_ about to go take Randy's blankets."

"Hey, Michael! Stop it! I'm not letting go!"

"Now, now, Randy. Let's listen to our older brothers and hand over our blankets."

"NO! Give it back!"

"Calm down, guys. I left the five of you three blankets and took four blankets for the two of us. Sounds fair to me."

The brothers grumbled, but were either too lazy or too tired to take their blankets back by force. Michael giggled and arranged the four blankets like two sleeping bags on the floor.

"OK. All done. Is this good enough, or should I go over to the girls and steal _their_ blankets?"

By this time, I was almost choking with laughter and wiping tears from my eyes. Michael took one look at me and was rolling on the floor in a second, clutching his stomach. The giggles were erupting out of his body in an endless stream of very loud noise. We had to wait a whole five minutes to get our breaths back. Then, we got into our makeshift sleeping bags.

"Michael, what's going to happen? What will I have to do in order to stay?"

I looked Michael in the eye and I could see the uncertainty and fear. I knew the answer to my question, but I waited, hoping he would say something else.

"I... don't know, Mel... I don't know."


	6. Chapter 6

**A Life With Michael Jackson (fictional)**

**By: Mistah ME**

_disclaimer: I do NOT own Michael Jackson. (obviously)_

Chapter 6

I opened my eyes to the brilliance of the sun. A smile broke out over my face. It was a bright new day. I turned my head to the right and looked at Michael's sleeping face. An idea came into my mind and I flung the blankets off his body. He immediately scrunched up in a ball.

"My blanket... cold... tired... cold... sleep..."

"Wake up, Michael. Wake up!"

"No... I'm tired."

"It's my birthday today, Michael. June 9."

"What?"

"It's my birthday. Come ON! Get up! Let's have fun!"

"OK, OK, I'm getting up."

He slowly sat up, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. After ten minutes, we walked out of the room and into the kitchen just as the brothers were waking up. Michael pulled out a chair for me.

"Sit here and I'll make you a birthday breakfast."

I watched while he made fried eggs, buttered toast, and beagles for the whole family. He scooped two eggs, toast and two beagles onto a plate and set it in front of me.

"Michael, I can't finish this much food."

"Don't worry. I'll share with you."

The others came into the room, picked up plates, and served themselves without a word of thanks to Michael. He sat down next to me and waited for me to eat. I picked up a beagle and nibbled on it. It was the best beagle I had ever tasted. It had the perfect amount of butter on it and was toasted to perfection. I started wolfing it down, suddenly ravenous.

"That's better. I was afraid you weren't eating enough. We didn't eat lunch or dinner yesterday."

He picked up the toast and shoved half of it into his mouth. Then, Joseph made an announcement, loud and clear.

"We'll be performing at the strip club today. We'll have Melanie today and she'll be doing the extra acts, instead of Michael."

Joseph smirked and continued eating while Michael stared at him in horror. Apparently, these "acts" were not good. I sighed and scooped up one of the eggs, shoving the other one in Michael's horror-struck mouth. He broke out of his trance and started chewing. I shoved my egg into my own mouth and mimicked Michael, chewing mindlessly. When I finished, I broke the last beagle in two pieces and put the larger piece in Michael's hand, along with the half-eaten toast. I put my piece in my mouth, finished it, and waited for Michael to finish his egg. He was eating very slowly, taking his time for every bite. He finished his egg and slowly started nibbling on his toast while I still sat and waited. Everyone got up and left and Michael was just starting on his piece of beagle. I got up, gathered the dishes, and washed them. As I was drying them, Michael finally finished and helped me. We finished the dishes together and put them back into the cabinets.

"Mel, tonight, at the strip club, just... Whatever Joseph tells you to do, just don't let it get to you, OK? Just ignore what you have to do. Anyway, this will probably be a one-time thing. The Jackson 5 shouldn't be performing at places like that anymore."

"What's he going to make me do?"

"... Well, he usually has me crawl around under the tables and look up ladies' dresses. But you're a girl so he's probably going to make you do something else."

"Like what?"

"... I don't know... Let's just prepare for the worst."

He hugged me, squeezing the breath out of me. I was scared. What was Joseph going to make me do? What _was _a strip club, anyway? Michael put his hand on my head and tilted my face up to look at his.

"You'll make it, Mel. I promise you. I'll fight him if he has any ideas. Don't worry. Everything's going to be alright."

Looking into his eyes, I knew he wasn't lying. I didn't feel scared anymore. Michael would help me through this.

"OK. I'm not scared anymore."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

"Come on! Hurry up! The show's starting in four hours! We have to rehearse one more time, then set the stage! Melanie, come here!"

I froze, dread welling up inside me. Michael ran to my side and signaled that he was coming with me. I forced each one of my muscles to unlock so that I could walk over to Joseph.

"Melanie, you are going to be walking down this aisle naked. You can dance a little and-"

"SHE WILL _NOT _BE WALKING DOWN THAT AISLE NAKED! I CAN'T _BELIEVE _YOU! YOU'RE SO SICK AND MESSED UP! SHE'S_ SIX YEARS OLD_! SHE WILL BE DANCING TONIGHT FULLY CLOTHED!"

In his fury, Michael was screaming at Joseph. But, now, Joseph was mad.

"SHE WILL BE WEARING _THIS_! NOW GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE I DO SOMETHING BAD!"

Joseph shoved a package into Michael's hand. Satisfied, Michael turned and marched into the dressing room, me in tow. He locked the door and started opening the package.

"This is probably going to be a really weird outfit that matches ours. I don't know why people like these and they're so hard to put on. I'll tell you how to wear it and wait outside, OK?"

I nodded and looked at what Michael was wearing and giggled. It was a rainbow colored, one-piece, rubber suit that had weird little bobbles sticking out all over. Then, I looked at the almost-opened package. To my surprise, the clothes inside looked skimpy and were skin-colored. Michael must have noticed, too, because he muttered under his breath.

"What's _this_?"

He pulled out a tight-fitting, skin-colored, two piece swimsuit. It was slightly more covering than a bikini. Michael was instantly furious.

"That Joseph! He _has _to insist on these disgusting "acts" of his! I'm sick of it! Imma go and-"

"Everyone on the stage, NOW! Rehearsal! We're starting!"

"Ugh, the director's calling. Just wear this and then put something on over it. You remember the choreography we practiced today, right?"

I nodded, dreading the performance. Michael walked out of the dressing room and closed the door behind him. I fumbled with the lock until I heard it click. Then, I picked up the costume top. I took off my shirt and awkwardly forced it over my head and shoved my arms through the holes the spaghetti straps made. I let go, the elastic snapping against my skin. My breath whooshed out of my lungs and I could barely inhale to replace the lost air. It was too tight and was obviously made for a lady with large breasts, of which I had none. I then took off my pants and forced the underwear-shaped bottom piece over my actual underwear. Finished, I stood in the middle of the room, feeling very exposed. I couldn't go out like this. I ripped off the costume, not caring how much it cost and gasped for breath. There was no way I would be able to take it off normally. I put my clothes back on and wrapped the ruined swimsuit in the package. Since it was obviously wrecked beyond repair, I decided to just throw it away. I feebly tried unlocking the door before I realized that I only had to push down on the handle and walked out of the stuffy dressing room. There was a huge trash can nearby and I dumped the package into it. I still had no costume for the performance, so I sought out the director. He was in front of the stage, yelling at his staff.

"Hello, Mr. Director?"

He looked around, seeing no one. Then, realizing that I was a child, he looked down, irritated.

"What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy? You're not even part of the Jackson 5! Why are you here?"

"I'm going to perform tonight, sir. And I need a costume like Michael's."

"Get out of here! I'm busy and you're a liar! I was never informed about a _girl_!"

I knew he wouldn't help me and I would only get myself in trouble if I continued talking to this man, so I started to walk away. Just then, Michael came over to see what the commotion was about.

"Mel? What happened? Where's your costume?"

"It didn't fit." I decided to leave out the gory details.

"So where is it?"

"I threw it away."

Michael blinked. Then, he burst out laughing. Apparently, me throwing the costume away was hilarious to him.

"You threw it away?"

"Yes."

"Good! Now, let's go find something that's actually suitable."

"OK!"

He walked up to the assistant-director and demanded something suitable be found for me.

"Hello? We need a costume for this girl. Something that fits her and is appropriate."

"What? _That_ girl? She's not performing."

"Ummm... Actually, she's a side act and she needs something to wear."

"...OK, whatever. Come over here. We have the female stuff over in this closet."

"Can I go in there? I mean- uh- well- is there anyone in there?" Michael's face was red.

"No there's no one in there right now. I'll make sure no one goes in." The assistant-director's face also turned red. I looked back and forth between them, confused.

"Let's go, Mel. We'll find something."

Michael opened the door to the walk-in closet and turned on the lights. I gasped. I had never seen so many clothes in my life. Back at my old home with my parents, I only had three pairs of clothes, but, in here, there were two whole racks jammed with clothes.

"You can look around for anything you like. I'll look for something that looks like mine."

"OK."

I didn't know where to start. There was so much. I pulled at a dress nearby. It was deep purple with a darker corset. It was too fancy for me and too big. In fact, most of the clothes were too big. I sighed, relieved. That narrowed things down a lot. I only had time to look at three more costumes before Michael called me over.

"Hey, Mel, look here! It's almost exactly the same! And I think it fits you, too!"

Michael handed me a rainbow, one-piece, rubber suit. But, instead of bobbles, it had frills all over it. I took it, relieved. Now, I would look like an idiot, but at least I would be wearing the same thing as everyone else.

"There's an invisible zipper in the back and I'll help you zip it up if you can't."

"OK."

Michael left, closing the door behind him. I quickly took off everything except my underwear and slipped on the rubber suit. I couldn't even reach the zipper, so I stuck my head out of the door and asked Michael for help.

"Michael, can you help me? I can't reach."

"OK."

I turned around and Michael zipped up the zipper.

"Now, you're all set."

"Where do I put my clothes?"

"Give them to me. I'll keep them for you."

I picked up my clothes from the pile on the floor and handed them to Michael.

"Now go hide somewhere Joseph can't see you for two and a half hours."

"Ok!"

I ran outside and looked around. It was nighttime and pitch black. I could very easily get lost in this situation. I went back inside. There was nothing to do and nowhere to go. I was stuck here for two hours with nothing to do. Then, the sounds of the band filtered down through the hallway and I had an idea. I could watch the band and I could learn from them. I snuck backstage and looked out at the brothers. They were dancing and singing a lot better than I could ever imagine myself being. After pulling up a chair, I sat and watched Michael rehearse for the next two hours.


	7. Chapter 7

**A Life With Michael Jackson (fictional)**

**By: Mistah ME**

_disclaimer: I do NOT own Michael Jackson. (obviously)_

Chapter7

_**Author's Note: The last chapter was getting too long, so I had to cut it into two parts. This is going to be right before the show starts cause Melanie just watches Michael rehearse for the next two hours. **__**Enjoy and review please:)**_

* * *

"Is anyone using the rainbow rubber suit from the ladies' closet?"

There was a lady going around asking everyone the same question.

"Oh, there you are. There's a skirt that goes with this. I just washed it and I was going to put it with the suit, but the suit was gone!"

The lady wrapped a piece of rainbow rubber around my waist and fastened it at the front. It made a knee-length skirt that parted in the front to show the legs. I had never worn a skirt before and I found I kind of liked it.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"No problem, dear"

I walked away and found the brothers, who were finished rehearsing. Michael saw my skirt and raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything about the new attachment to my costume. Instead, he gave me instructions as to what I was going to be doing.

"Mel, you're going to be on this aisle and you'll walk up and down and do your thing. Remember the choreography we practiced. Since we're already disobeying Joseph on the costume thing, we might as well do the same with the performance, too. So do the things we practiced and you'll be fine. We're about start now, so go through there and come out and do your thing when the music starts."

I nodded, confident. Now that I wasn't doing what Joseph wanted me to do, I knew I could do this performance. I went where Michael told me to go and waited for the music to start.

"Everyone, please pay attention to the stage. We have a special performance from the Jackson 5 tonight!"

Cheering erupted from the crowd and the music started. The brothers appeared on the stage in single file and picked up the microphones and instruments. Michael started singing and I took that as my cue to come out.

I walked out into the open, sort of strutting and marching at the same time with my head down and my arms by my sides. Michael stpoped singing for a second to let me raise my head and I started walking up and down the aisle, striking a pose every three steps or so. I reached a table, jumped on it, and walked around on top of it. When I had completed about two and a half laps, I struck a pose and spun around on the balls of my feet for about four or five turns. When I finished on the table, I jumped off and ran back on the stage with just enough time to get on it and stand before the music stopped. The brothers bowed and I tried to curtsy. I had never done it before and I probably did it wrong. I looked to the side and saw Joseph, fuming. I was sure he wouldn't let this go. We walked off the stage single file. Michael was behind me and he complimented my performance.

"You did really well for your first time. And you only had a day's notice, too. Actually, you had less than a day's notice. Maybe, like, ten hours at most."

"Thanks, Michael."

We were off the stage, now and Michael and I stood off to the side.

"And I'm real sorry we didn't get to celebrate your birthday today. I have a surprise for you tomorrow. But for now, you're turning seven, right?"

"Yeah."

"OK, then seven birthday kisses on the cheek for you."

Michael leaned down and kissed me seven times on the cheeks. His last kiss was very close to my mouth, hovering just on the corner of my lips. My heart pounded in my chest and I looked, panicked, to see if Michael had noticed how close to my lips his kiss was or how loudly my heart was beating. He didn't seem to notice and was looking around for Joseph. I sat down, waiting for my heart to quit being so loud. That had never happened to me before. I decided to ignore it, thinking it was just a one-time thing.

"I think Joseph wants to talk to us."

I looked over and it was true. Joseph was beckoning to us to come over. My stomach tightened and any warm feelings I might have had turned cold. We walked over to Joseph, who was fanning himself with cash.

"I don't know what you kids did, but it brought in a lot of money. Next time, you WILL do what I say, but I wont be so unreasonable as I was today. And here's your share of the cash."

Joseph handed some bills to Michael and handed the same amount to me. I looked at the money in my hands. It was twenty dollars, the most money I have ever held in my hand at once.

"Thanks, Joseph."

Michael and I thanked Joseph for the money together, but he seemed uncomfortable and looked like he didn't know what to say. After a moment of awkward silence, he walked away. I had no idea what to do with the money I had been given, so I tried to give it to Michael.

"Here, Michael. You could use it better than me."

"I can't take your money. I'm sure you could find a million uses for it. But, for now, let's just go home."

Michael took my hand and we walked home together.


	8. Chapter 8

**A Life With Michael Jackson (fictional)**

**By: Mistah ME**

_disclaimer: I do NOT own Michael Jackson. (obviously)_

Chapter 8

I woke up, spluttering, as someone splashed very cold water on my face, soaking my clothes and the blankets I was wrapped in. The person stopped the water flow and I sat up, wiping the water from my eyes. I was outside on the front lawn and, judging from the lack of people outside, it was very early in the morning.

"What? Why-"

More cold water splashed my face, soaking me to the bone. This time, I heard distinct laughter accompanying the splash of water. I turned around to see Michael, a water gun in his hands.

"Michael? What are you doing?"

"Remember your birthday surprise? It's a Super Soaker fight!"

Michael tossed me another Super Soaker and the fight began. I launched myself to my feet, squeezing the trigger, only to find out that my gun wasn't loaded. This earned me another shower of cold water and I raced inside, fumbling with the tiny stopper so that I could fill my gun. Once my gun was filled to the brim with freezing water, I raced outside, looking wildly around for Michael. I still had no clue about Michael's water sport expertise. I heard footfalls behind me and giggles, so I turned, only to be splashed in the face for the fourth time. I pulled the trigger on my gun, aiming where I thought Michael should have been. Instead, I wasted half my water and gave Michael a chance to spray me from behind. I wiped the water from my eyes, gasping for breath, and raised both my hands in defeat. I couldn't defeat him. I turned around and saw Michael, completely dry, laughing and clutching his stomach. I hadn't even dampened him, whereas he had completely soaked me. My clothes were sagging with the weight of the water and, every time I moved, a little waterfall escaped from the soaked cloth.

"I'm done. I can't play anymore."

"But we haven't even played for ten minutes yet. Or started the water balloon fight."

Michael looked at me, an evil glint in his eyes. Only then did I realize that Michael was holding something behind his back. With a yell, Michael threw a water balloon at me and sprayed me with his gun. Suddenly, there were four more sources of water and I pulled my trigger, spinning wildly around and hoping to get someone wet.

"I forgot to introduce you to my other teammates. This is Jackie, Jermaine, LaToya, and Tito."

Thankfully, the water had stopped.

"Isn't there anyone else on _my_ team?"

"Nope."

Panicking, I ran away from the circle of enemies. I checked my gun. Almost empty. I had to refill, but I was too far away from the door. The other team was blocking the entrance. Stealthily, I snuck around to the back of the house and found the hose, as well as the water balloons. Tito was already there, guarding the water supplies. With a yell, I ran toward him, spraying him with the last of my water. He didn't have his gun, so he picked up water balloons and started throwing them at me, but I cut him off and used the balloons to my advantage, picking them up and throwing them as fast as I could. He ran off to get a gun and warn his teammates. I had to act fast. There was little time. I took the stopper off my gun and turned on the hose. Letting the gun fill by itself, I gathered as many balloons as I could carry and shoved them into my pockets, jacket, anywhere that could hold a balloon. I quickly put the stopper back in my now-filled gun and waited for the enemy to come. If I stayed here, I would have the advantage because I could work the hose with one hand and throw balloons with the other.

They came quickly, three of them. I guessed that one was hiding on each side of the house, ready to get me if I ran. There would be no running. This was war. Michael, LaToya, and Jackie charged me. I set the hose on Michael and Jackie and threw balloons at LaToya, but Michael somehow got away without getting wet and sprayed me with his gun. I would not budge. When his gun ran out, he caught a few balloons I was throwing and threw them back at me until LaToya threw him her gun. She began doing what Michael was doing, catching my balloons and throwing them at me. I could not let this happen. I had used up half the balloons already and I had to save them. I stopped throwing balloons and concentrated on the hose, turning it up to full power. Jackie finally gave his gun to LaToya and retreated, too soaked to continue. I assessed the enemy. LaToya was partially wet from when a few balloons had exploded too near her, but she had dodged most of my attempts to soak her. Michael was not wet at all and still spraying me. He was the better of the two, so I focused the hose on LaToya, getting her wet almost immediately. I had to admit, though, that she was good because she waited until Michael's gun ran out to hand him her gun and retreat. Now, I focused on Michael, but, before I could get him wet, he called for backup.

"Jermaine, Tito, to the back! NOW! We need backup!"

Jermaine and Tito came running with fully loaded guns and, suddenly, I had three enemies again. Michael traded guns with Tito, who was still wet from before, leaving him with a half full gun. I focused the hose on Tito and threw five balloons at Jermaine with relative accuracy. In this way, I got Jermaine wet and Tito soaked. It wasn't long before Tito's gun ran out and he surrendered. I threw five balloons at Michael, missing every time and turned the hose on Jermaine. He got soaked immediately and backed out, giving Michael his gun. Now, it was just me against Michael. I was soaked and shivering with a hose, water balloons, and a Super Soaker. Michael was completely warm and dry with two Super Soakers.

I focused the hose on him, but he dodged it with relative ease. I couldn't believe my eyes. None of the others had been able to dodge the hose! I gave up on the hose and started on the balloons, Michael spraying me the entire time. It wasn't until I had finished all the balloons in the bucket that I realized he was dodging them all. I tried the hose with the water balloons I had stored in my pockets and this didn't work. I had no more water balloons, a hose and a full Super Soaker. Michael had just finished his first gun and was starting on his second. I tried the hose with the gun. It still didn't work. I had no choice but to go closer for a better shot. I reluctantly left the hose and ran toward Michael, spraying all of my water and missing. He ran around me and was already at the hose. I had nothing left and Michael had the hose. I was defeated.

"OK, I give up. You win."

"That's what I thought. You can't beat me. I'm the Michael Jordan of water balloon fights."

We walked back inside the house. As soon as she saw me, Michael's mother started scolding and fussing.

"Look at her clothes! They're ruined! I'll put them out to dry and find her some clothes, but these will be badly stretched and she'll have to wait until she can wear these again. She should be roughly the same size as Janet."

She disappeared for a few minutes, then came back with a fresh change of clothes and a towel. I went into the bathroom, took off my clothes, dried myself off, and put on the new clothes. I wrung my old clothes out in the bathtub and took them outside.

"Here, Melanie. Let me take that for you."

I gave my wet clothes to Michael's mother.

"Thank you, Michael's mother."

"Please, just call me Auntie."

"OK."

Michael called me over from the kitchen and I went the see what he wanted.

"Happy Birthday, Mel!"

There was a cake on the table, the first one I had ever seen in real life. In red letters it said 'Happy Birthday, Melanie!' and it had a huge candle on it, shaped in the number 7. Everyone sang the birthday song and I blew out the candle, wishing that this could last forever. Everyone got a slice of cake and I finished my slice before anyone else.

"Thanks, everyone."

It was lunch time, but everyone had already eaten their fill of cake. I took the plates and washed and dried them while everyone started drifting away to do their own thing. Michael left with some money and I has no idea where he went. When I finished the dishes, I went outside and gathered up the muddy blankets and put them in the washer. I was used to these kind of chores because my parents had 'homeschooled' me my whole life, making me stay home all day, doing chores, while they went out to have fun. I went back to the bedroom and collapsed on the floor in the rest of the blankets, exhausted, and took a nap for the rest of the day.


	9. A little something from me :)

Hi. :) If you've gotten this far already, then you must not be bored to death by my horrible story. :) By the way, this is based off of a daydream I had about Michael. (I'm a moonwalker.) So the rest of the story will span approximately forty years. As you can see, the title is A Life With Michael Jackson. Well, sad part is that I am NOT able to write forty years worth of story if every chapter is about one day. (Sorry) So the rest of this story is about the important stuff in Michael and Melanie's life together... Well, what _I_ consider important... Which might not be that important in the actual course of the story... And I won't be going with the exact order if things. I'll be doing things in _my _order. Ahhh, the power of being the author:) Anyway, please continue with the rest of the story and review! Anything is fine with me. Like, is it good? Is it the absolute worst garbage you have ever read? I want to know and I will gladly accept constructive criticism. Thanks! :)


End file.
